Graveyard Soliloquies
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Harry and Viktor get drunk in a graveyard and share their troubles. SLASH Viktor/Harry


**Graveyard Soliloquies**

From behind a black tree there came out noiselessly a gloomy and fleshful moon. A cloud slipped a mask over it in passing. When it cleared you could see that the great tree's thick black boughs nearly touched the grass. It dominated the cramped landscape of the graveyard, a graveyard that filled up ten years ago and was mostly forgotten now.

A single man sat beneath the tree, half-hidden in its nighttime shadows. There was a soft jangling of metal as he lifted a flask to his lips and took a swig. From across the unkempt grass and tilting tombstones he could see his expected companion approaching. His steps wove even despite the obstacles in his path, and he knew that he wasn't the only one drinking. The figure joined him under the tree, smelling of gin, and smiling.

"Hello, Viktor."

Harry collapsed with characteristic inelegance until he was sprawled on the grass with his head resting on Viktor's belly.

"You're late."

"I am not," Harry mumbled, indignant, and rolled onto his side so that he could press his mouth against Viktor's hipbone through his trousers, "I hurried over as soon as I could, but my boss demanded that I have a drink with him after work."

Harry coaxed a smile out of him by gently running his fingertip up and down Viktor's arm until he knew it was tickling him. Viktor chuckled and withdrew his arm from Harry's reach.

"So, how have you been?"

"Not so good. Work has become really stressful since the protests against Azkaban started. I just feel like I'm operating under a constant fog of frustration; none of those people protesting seem to understand why Azkaban was founded in the first place. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so. They are mostly young people, yes?"

"Yeah. They didn't have to fight the people now locked up for their lives. I never thought the generational gap would be this serious."

They descended into silence, lost in thought about the new generation of witches and wizards, most of who had never been to a proper defense lecture in their lives, much less practiced it.

Harry and Viktor had started their monthly tradition quite by accident. It just so happened that one rainy afternoon they both decided to visit Cedric's grave at the same time and ended up having dinner together. They moved in separate circles except for the first night of every month, which they spent the duration of in the graveyard drinking gin or whatever else they thought to bring with them. It was nice for both of them to have someone to talk to that wasn't directly involved in their troubles, someone who could provide an outside perspective or just silent companionship, depending on the night.

Their attraction to one another had come later, and neither of them had mentioned it aloud. It just so happened that they now gravitated towards one another physically, one of them usually ending up with their head in the other's lap and, later, curled up together like two spoons in a drawer.

"You know, Saint Francis prayed that he might have the strength to accept what he could not change," Viktor commented after a while, running his finger down the length of Harry's nose. Harry hummed and replied,

"Do I look like a saint to you?"

"I didn't mean it like that, idiot."

Harry laughed a little and batted at Viktor's face, blind in the darkness, "Whatever. All the gin in the world isn't going to make this go away, is it?"

"No, just like those pictures of me from the Classical School I attended before I turned 15. The uniform was a black blouse, black shorts, and a skinny black belt. They made us wear that all year round, even in the winter, so we had to wear socks most of the year. My mother was too poor to buy me socks, so mine were made from whatever yarn she had lying around. Thanks to my little sister, I spent most of my childhood wearing fuzzy pink socks."

Harry laughed loudly and curled up into a ball, shaking.

"Why have I never seen those?"

"Because I try to pretend they never happened."

Harry laughed harder. When he recovered he squeezed Viktor's thigh and said, "Thanks for cheering me up. I didn't mean to be so depressing tonight."

"It's forgiven."

There was a pause, and then Harry said, "I wonder what Cedric would think if he knew that we became…friends…because of his gravesite?"

"I don't know. Are we friends, Harry?"

"Well, yeah, I thought-"

"I mean is that all we are?"

Harry held his breath as his eyes, which were abysmal in the dark, noticed that the blur he associated as Viktor was bending closer. He rose up on one arm and met him halfway.

Several hours later, Harry smiled into Viktor's neck and said, "I guess we're a little more than friends."

~000~

End Graveyard Soliloquies

The return of Viktor! I didn't bother to write his accent out because I know that can be hard for some of you to read, but I hope you all imagined him speaking in that adorable accent of his.


End file.
